In northwest England there’s a lake called Innominate Tarn.
A tarn is a small lake.
And “innominate” means without a name.
So this is the Lake Without a Name.
… Which always makes me laugh – because it has a name, even if it claims not to.
A couple of years ago, our nephew David came to visit.
On that patio outside the front door was a beautiful hibiscus plant in flower.
David stepped out of the door and was immediately captivated by one of the flowers. He just stood and stared at it. In silence.
That was until someone asked: Do you know what that flower is called, David?
The trance was broken. David went searching through his brain for the correct name.
He was snapped out of his silent reverie.
Why am I telling you these stories?
Our minds have a need to name things – to put stuff into words.
After all, that’s how we think.
If it can’t be named, we can’t think about it.
And if it can’t be named, we can’t store it away in our mental library of concepts.
I’m here to tell you that if we limit ourselves to what can be named – what can be “thought” – we limit our lives.
Now, I’m not getting into some kind of woo-woo nonsense here.
These emails are for people grounded in real life.
But I’d like you to be curious to the possibility that there’s more to the life than what we can name… and what we can think about.
Once we open that door of curiosity, we get access to the same inspiration that leads to great art, great ideas and great breakthroughs.
And, once we allow the nameless in, we’re able to access the life of peace that I promise.
I’ll talk more about naming and our feelings tomorrow.
But maybe – for now – be curious to the idea that there’s more out there than we can categorize in our mental library.
That a flower's beauty comes before its name.
(Picture by Michael Graham. Copyright Creative Commons Attribution Share-alike license 2.0)